


blue valentines

by montecarlos



Series: moments in between [5]
Category: GP2 Series RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, M/M, Mates, Valentine's Day, Werewolves, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: Richie hates Valentine’s Day - he’s not the biggest fan of romance as things stand, but there’s something about this particular day that makes him frustrated.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohnojamie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnojamie/gifts).



> I sorta lowkey wanted to write valentines fic (which may or may not happen) but I really wanted to write something for my wife Jamie for all her support and for always making me smile. So ummm werewolves happened!!!! Enjoy :)

Richie hates Valentine’s Day - he’s not the biggest fan of romance as things stand, but there’s something about this particular day that makes him frustrated. It’s probably the fact that Alex has sent Mitch a dozen red roses to the house they all share - and Mitch being Mitch, immediately threw himself into his alpha’s arms, his lips covering the taller wolf’s. Stoffel and Pierre are much more low key - but Richie spots Stoffel giving Pierre a box of his favourite chocolates and whispering that he can’t wait for their movie date later.    
  
Richie sighs heavily as he throws himself down on the couch, trying to ignore Stoffel’s whispered conversation and Pierre’s tiny giggles between kisses. He loves his pack, his family - but sometimes he feels lonely. Ollie, his mate - is incredible, but he’s an alpha and he has his own pack to run. He wonders sometimes if that’s normal - if their arrangement is normal - he and Ollie have an interesting relationship. They’re not as affectionate as Mitch and Alex - they cuddle only after they’ve had sex and Richie once slid his own hand into Ollie’s for a few seconds before he pulled away again.    
  
He glances down at his phone - maybe he should call Ollie up for a while, maybe go over to his house, do things that mates are supposed to do. But he doesn’t. He ends up playing on Call of Duty in the den and pretending that Sean and Antonio aren’t cuddling in the lounge (he spotted them when he went to go and microwave some popcorn).  He hates the sense of loneliness that slowly begins to crawl in as he hears Stoffel and Pierre leave to presumably go to the movies and tries to focus on his game. The house is quiet though - Antonio and Sean are very quiet and Richie doesn’t want to disturb them - even though the thing between them is as strange as the thing between himself and Ollie - he knows that they would rather be alone tonight. It’s evident from the curl of warmth hovering underneath the door and Antonio’s contented bond-thread seeming to glow. Alex and Mitch also seem to have disappeared - Alex has probably taken Mitch off to some fancy dinner, to shower his mate with love and affection. Richie worries his lip as he finally stops playing on his game, curling up as small as he can on the sofa. He tries not to think about how lonely he is, about how he doesn’t want what everyone thinks is normal. He isn’t going to cry about it and he certainly isn’t going to call Ollie up and say that he misses him.    
  
The tears feel foreign against his face - like they’re not supposed to be there - and he doesn’t even know what he’s crying about. Ollie asked him in the beginning, he’d asked him what he wanted - they agreed that a little distance and space were things that they both valued. He curls up a little more, his chin resting against his knees as he thinks about Ollie - about how he kind of wants his mate here. He thinks about Ollie curling around him, tracing circles over his knuckles, about his light little giggle when Richie remarks on something, how he warmly calls him  _ Rich  _ when they’re alone. He tries not to think about how Mitch and Alex curl up against each other, how Stoffel always greets Pierre with a morning kiss. That sort of stuff terrifies him and he doesn’t want it - but there’s times that he wishes he did. The tears begin to dry on his face but the pain still resides in his chest.    
  
“Rich?” A familiar voice pipes up and Richie finds himself glancing up at the doorway. Ollie stands in the dim light with a small smile spreading over his lips, his hair as messy as it always is. Richie can’t help but smile at him for a second - his mate, he tells himself - as he scrubs at his eyes, unwilling to believe that he’s here. But Ollie doesn’t vanish. He moves closer to the shorter man, concern flooding his face as he gently cups Richie’s smooth cheek.    
  
“Rich, what’s going on?” Ollie asks, cocking his head slightly, his light blue eyes shining gently in the dim light of the den.   
  
“Nothing,” Richie says, unable to stop his walls immediately rising. But Ollie gives him the look - the I know you’re talking absolute bullshit look - and Richie worries his lip, trying to rub away his reddened eyes. “It’s nothing,”   
  
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Ollie murmurs as he settles down on the couch next to Richie, their legs brush against each other and Richie stiffens at the contact. He doesn’t mean to - he just doesn’t know what to do, how to react to Ollie’s concern. “Rich, please,” Ollie whispers, his blue eyes fixed on his mate. “Tell me what happened,”   
  
“It’s nothing,” Richie says, trying to gently push Ollie away, his chest crying out at the fact he’s not allowing his mate near him. “I just...I hate today,”   
  
Ollie’s gaze is fixed on him and he feels his cheeks colour at his mate’s stare. “What happened? Is it because it’s Valentine’s Da-”   
  
“It makes me feel like a freak,” Richie says, his hands still lingering on his cheeks,  tear track marks still lingering. “I don’t want all these romantic things but I feel like I’m missing out,”   
  
“You said you didn’t want to do the whole couple thing, I thought you were happy with how things were,” His hand moves to close around Richie’s free one - their fingers tangling together like they’re supposed to, his thumb slowly stroking over Richie’s. “I thought this is what you wanted,”   
  
“I thought so too,” Richie says, his voice slightly wet. “But I’m not sure anymore,”   
  
“It’s okay,” Ollie murmurs, squeezing his mate’s hand. “We’ll figure this out, I promise,” He moves closer to his mate, pulling Richie into the curves of his arms. For once, Richie is silent and allows himself to be pulled against Ollie’s chest. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to be soothed by the slow incline and decline of his mate’s chest, Ollie’s warmth curling into him.    
  
“I’m sorry,” Richie says quietly, his face is buried against Ollie’s t-shirt as the werewolf’s hand cards through his fluffy hair.    
  
“For what?” Ollie asks, seemingly confused.    
  
“For being a needy idiot,” Richie mutters. “You probably were super busy with your own pack-”   
  
“Hey,” Ollie says, his tone serious. “The pack is fine. Artem and Victoria cooked an enormous dinner for everyone as usual, I was going to ask you to come over for a few hours. The pups are doing great - Jake’s eating us out of house and home. Sergey finished that book you bought him in three hours. You’d have been very welcome for dinner. Artem always makes too much and-” He stops, glancing down at his mate. Richie is slumped against him, his dark eyelashes hiding his blue-green eyes from view. Ollie feels a smile slip over his lips as he drinks in the sight of his mate, of his Richie - he looks so peaceful in his sleep and Ollie has to push away the wolf’s instinct to protect. “Goodnight Rich,” He murmurs, brushing a light kiss to the human’s forehead. “I love you,”   
  
Richie shifts a little in his sleep, eyebrow wrinkling ever so slightly as though he’s heard the words. The smile remains on Ollie’s face as he pulls his mate closer to him, his eyelids heavy and itchy with sleep as he soon follows the human into sleep. It’s not the conventional Valentine’s Day either of them were expecting, but as they sleep curled up around each other, none of that matters in that moment.    
  
Richie wakes up what seems like a few moments later - awoken by the faint rays of sunlight beginning to peer through the crack in the curtain. He realises he’s still in the den. His body underneath blankets he doesn’t remember pulling over himself - then he feels something soft shift at the side of him. He blinks away the sleep and finds himself resting on a slowly-rising mass of white fur. Searching through his sleep-addled mind, he slowly realises that Ollie is still curled around him almost protectively, the covers are still held in the wolf’s mouth where he’s pulled them up over Richie. The warmth floods through his chest at the sight of the wolf lightly snoozing next to him - Ollie is the most _ beautiful _ wolf he’s ever seen - his white fur seems glow in the dim sunlight that shines through the gap. Richie’s fingers slowly tangle into the soft fur and he strokes his wolf gently as he moves closer to Ollie, sleep once again lingering in his eyes.    
  
“Love you,” He whispers against the soft white fur as sleep claims him once again.    



End file.
